How to Reappear
by broodingmochi
Summary: 17 year old Kenny McCormick is head over heels for Butters, but everyone thinks he's a whore and a flake, so life isn't quite going how he'd like. Luckily for him, the king of Hell’s a dick, but Kenny isn’t too keen on this new “only-one-life” thing.
1. Chapter 1

Even though the legal working age in Colorado is fourteen, I got my first job when I was nine, which makes sense, because South Park is kind of its own state.

I got hired because the new "gentrified" part of town, which so conveniently happened to be placed literally _around_ my house, was putting City Wok out of business, so Lu Kim decided to graciously hire a bunch of child workers to try and spruce the restaurant up to attract more customers. Long story short, a Whole Foods ended up saving the establishment, but that's a story for another time.

Anyways, seven years later, I now work at Tweek Bros. Coffeehouse, which is honestly a lot of fun. I usually work shifts with Tweek, and wherever Tweek is, so is Craig. Third-wheeling gets tiring, but I'm also really good at inserting myself into situations where I'm not wanted, and I've been close friends with Craig for years, so I have a lot of material to work with whenever I want to annoy them.

Tweek and Craig have been together for, like, forever. They pretended to be dating to bring the town together (again, a story for another time), and I'm not really sure what happened, and to be honest, I don't really care, but 7 years later and they're still together, and they seem really happy together. I'm glad. They're both good guys, they deserve to be happy. Sometimes I wonder if I'd ever be able to make anyone happy.

Apparently Tweek and Craig were able to detect my dejectedness, which is a little embarrassing.

"You okay, man?" Craig asks.

"You looked lost in thought and then suddenly you looked really sad," Tweek says.

Whoops.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm all good."

"What're you thinkin' about?" Craig asks. Wow, okay, thanks, Craig. Let's just keep talking about it.

"Oh, uh.. You know. Karen said some kid at school was bothering her, and I just, uh.. 'M worried about her." I feel bad for lying to them, but I don't really know how I'd explain what I was actually thinking. Plus, some kid at school really had been bothering Karen, and I _was_ worried about her.

"Oh shit. Dude, just tell me the name and I'll tell Tricia to kick their ass. You know she will."

Karen and Tricia, Craig's little sister, were good friends. Being in the same grade, and having both of their brothers hanging out a lot brought them together, and it was nice knowing that Karen had such a good friend. Plus, Tricia was a total badass. She totally got that from Craig.

"Oh no, it's all good. I'll let you know if it gets worse, I guess."

Craig nods, and turns back to Tweek, who starts talking about some new show he had just started watching.

Craig is like a brother to me. When I was younger, Stan, Kyle, and Cartman would often shut me out and leave me alone. I love the guys, and they're better now, but oh, boy, were they dicks. Craig was the only kid who could stand to be seen with "the poor kid". He was the only one who wouldn't make fun of me constantly for being lower class. Actually, scratch that. He was the only _boy_ who wouldn't make fun of me, but I didn't want to hang out with any of the girls because I didn't want people to think I was gay. Guess that didn't turn out quite the way I wanted it to.

I don't really care what sexuality people define me as. I don't put labels on myself. I like who I like, and that's that. One thing that _does_ kind of irk me is that everyone thinks that means I'm willing to stick my dick into who, and sometimes, whatever. I've heard lots of colorful rumors about my sex life, but I ignore them, because I really could not care less about what other people say about me. A good portion of kids at school know me as "Kenny McWhoremick", which is honestly a really funny name. Kudos to whoever created that.

I get a lot of shit for being so liberal about my sexual identity, mostly from Cartman, but I'm happy with who I am, and that's enough for me.

Speaking of Cartman, I'm still best friends with Stan, Kyle, and Cartman. Cartman is still an anti-semetic bastard, but Stan and Kyle are a lot better than how they were when we were in fourth grade. Stan is one of the most caring, sensitive guys I know. Kyle is a little stuck up, but he always means well, and he's a great friend. Stan and I like to play music together, because he's a great guitar player and songwriter, and, not to toot my own horn, but I'm a pretty good singer, and I have lots of trauma to write about, which is fun. Kyle and I occasionally study together because he's a straight-A student and I'm a grade-A dumbass. I like being around the guys, but they're best friends, and I feel left out a lot, so I'm usually just stuck with Cartman. Cartman and I occasionally commit misdemeanors together, like graffiti, shoplifting, trespassing. You know, the works.

Oh, boy. Cartman. I don't really know how to describe him. He's Cartman. He has definitely grown as a person, but he's a total piece of shit. He's still my best friend though. Cartman is surprisingly smart, and can actually be a really cool guy when he wants to, but most of the time he's just a little bitch. One special thing about Cartman, though, is that I'm like eighty-five percent sure he can remember all the times I've died, but he just doesn't care. Or maybe he doesn't see anything weird about it? Regardless of the reason, he never brings it up, but I'm still pretty sure he knows about my immortality.

I don't die quite as often as I used to, but it still feels like the world is out to get me. And that's not just me feeling sorry for myself, I think the world is literally out to get me. I'll just be sitting at home, and all of a sudden, stray bullet hits me in the back of the head, or the house suddenly bursts into flames, and then I wake up the next morning and there's no evidence that any of that ever happened. One time I was on a hike with the guys, and all of a sudden a fucking flock of birds swoop down and carry me up about seventy-five feet and drop me, and then I wake up in my bed with texts from Kyle and Stan asking where I went.

The thing about constantly dying is that the universe makes up excuses for where I went, so if I die on the job, I get in trouble for ditching. If I die at school, I get in trouble for cutting class. If I die with friends, they get mad at me for leaving without warning. Most of the times when I die, it pisses someone off, and makes me about ten percent angstier than I already am.

I snap out of my thoughts and focus back on the coffee shop. Shift is nearly over, and Tweek tells me I can head out early if I want, and I happily oblige. We say our goodbyes and I head out the door and start my walk home.

Tweek used to be a really anxious, messy-looking spaz, but now he's actually pretty attractive, and a lot calmer (maybe I just have a thing for blonds). He's sickly looking and a bit too skinny than what's probably healthy, but it kind of fits him. His hair still sticks out in different ways, but he obviously brushes it a _little_. His eyes are hazel and kind, but are surrounded by bags and dark circles. I wonder if the boy ever sleeps. Also he finally learned how to properly button up his shirt. Tweek is really talented music-wise. He's really good at playing the piano and has a beautiful voice. He's a kind soul, and I'm glad that he isn't the same scared, twitchy kid that he used to be.

I think Craig and Tweek's relationship is a fun dynamic because Craig is actually really "cool" at school, and Tweek is just a soft-spoken little baker boy. Craig is fucking ugly. I love the guy but, goddamn, he is not attractive. He's had braces since middle school, which I actually think look good on him, but I'm pretty sure he only owns, like, two shirts, and they're both nasa hoodies. Craig looks punk and tough, he's got an eyebrow piercing and a ton of ear piercings, but he's definitely not punk. If anything, he's just a dick. He doesn't have the same, nasally voice that he used to have, which is great because I'm not sure I'd be able to be around him if he did. No offense young Craig.

But what he lacks in looks, he makes up for in popularity. Craig's not afraid to speak his mind, and he doesn't care what people think of him. This combined with him being best friends with the richest kid in school _and_ one of the star players on the varsity football team make up a concoction for Craig being put on a weirdly high pedestal at South Park High.I'm not sure if he likes it.

Craig is still best friends with Clyde and Token. Clyde is a chaotic dumbass, but he's a stereotypical, good-looking, popular football player, who's also dating the lead cheerleader. The only difference between Clyde and football players in the media is that Clyde is kind of fat and, like, really short. He and Bebe were an on-and-off thing throughout middle school, but when highschool started, something must have happened, and they've been going strong for about three years now. As far as I know, they really love each other, but I don't think I'll ever get over the whole football player and cheerleader thing.

Token's family is still loaded, and they live is a _really_ nice, big house just outside of town. It's not exactly a mansion, because South Park definitely does not have to money to build mansions, and South Park citizens most certainly don't have the money to buy said mansions. Token and Nichole are still together, despite everyone's mixed reactions. I'm happy for them, though, even if they _were_ set up by a racist piece of shit. Token has tons of friends. I'm pretty sure most of them are only friends with him because of his money, and I think he knows that too. He's a cool guy, though. Nichole is on the cheerleading team too, and Token is on the basketball team, which seems a little bit stereotypical, but, hey, not my place to judge.

I've never been in a steady relationship. I've had plenty of girlfriends, boyfriends, and everything in between throughout my days, but none even last, and I never get too attached to anyone. It's extremely difficult to date when you die all the time. They think you're always blowing them off and stuff like that, and if I try to tell them it scares them off, but they never remember for some reason. I don't think I'll ever be able to be in a steady relationship because of this. I guess that means the only person I could date is Eric Cartman, but I'd rather pluck my eyeballs out with toothpicks and eat them like kebabs than do that.

Backing up to the whole I-don't-get-attached thing, that's actually a lie. I'm attached to one person and one person _only_, in a romantic way at least.

See, I've been "in love" or whatever for about 3 years. I don't really understand the concept of "love". I've never had an example of "true love" in my life. My parents hated each other. As far as I'm concerned, "love" is just a word for a stupid inconvenience. That doesn't mean that I don't feel it though. When this whole thing started, I was really scared and confused. Hell, I still am.

The lucky contender for my heart is the one and only Leopold "Butters" Stotch. We've been friends since kindergarten. He's arguably the sweetest, most innocent kid in this whole town. He's so kind, so funny, and just overall the cutest person I've ever known, inside and out.

We're actually really close. Every other year I go to Hawaii with him to visit his family, since they really liked me when I went there with him in the fourth grade. Butters hangs out a lot with Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and me, but not quite enough for me to consider him officially part of the group. Butters is best friends with Scott Malkinson, who still has a lisp, and really no discernable personality aside from his diabetes, but he's a nice guy. Sometimes I get jealous over all the time Scott spends with him, but Scott's been with his girlfriend, Sophie, since, like, the 6th grade.

The thing about Butters is that I don't even know if he's gay. Like sure he's gay, but is he _gay _gay? Even if he was gay, would he ever like me? I only wear hand-me downs, the reputation I have is less than flattering, and as far as anyone else knows, I'm a total flake. He deserves better than a person who gets pianos dropped on them once a week.

I look around and realize I have no idea where I am. I was so lost in thought I must've ended up wandering somewhere. I literally have no clue where the hell I am. None of this looks familiar.

Now, I _could_ spend an hour trying to get home, or I could get an easy ticket home. I probably shouldn't be abusing my power like this, but I don't give a shit anymore. I wait around for a car for a couple minutes, and jump out in front of the first one I see.

Bright lights, darkness. I open my eyes and I'm somewhere familiar. Hell? This is new.


	2. Chapter 2

You know what the funny thing about Hell is? The smell. Naturally one would expect Hell to smell like something intense or dark, like burning flesh or blood. Hell actually just smells like an outhouse. I'm not sure what it is that makes it smell that way, but it's bad. Everytime I go there I make an official complaint about it to the King of Hell. And by that I mean I bitch to Damien.

Damien Thorn and I go way back. I first met him in the third grade, when he came to South Park to announce "the beginning of the end", and ended up turning me into a duck billed platypus. We're cool now, though. I see him, like, once every or every other month, and I get on his last nerve, which I find endless joy in.

Damien started ruling Hell when I was in fourth grade. Satan, his dad, was killed in the fight with Manbearpig and sent to Heaven, so Damien was forced to take over power of Hell. I think it was really hard for him at first, but he didn't really show it. Also he's a dick so I don't really care.

Damien works aside his right hand man, Pip Pirrup. I was also in class with Pip when I was younger, but the poor boy got crushed by Mecha-Streisand, so now he's in Hell, still being British. Pip is still a sweet guy, despite the fact that he is the co-leader of Hell. I'm pretty sure Damien and Pip are actually married, which I find weird because we're, like, seventeen, but things work different in Hell I guess.

Pip and Damien work as a Yin-and-Yang kind of thing. Damien dishes out punishments for the damned, and from what I've seen, Pip always makes sure Damien doesn't get too cruel, or something like that. Pip has been through so much shit, and still manages to be the same, cheery, faggy kid he was seven years ago.

Everytime I see Damien, the interaction usually goes like:

"Kenneth, what were you thinking?"

And then I'm like, "Dude, it wasn't my fault, I don't know how those rednecks still think I look like the next best thing for them to put on their mantel."

And then he says some shit like, "You need to be more careful blah blah I have pointy ears and a mullet and still expect people to take me seriously." I'm paraphrasing but you get the point.

I'm not sure why I only go to Hell _sometimes_ after I die. I rarely go to heaven, and go to Hell like 10% of the time, but mostly I just wake up in my bed after I die, which is my favorite outcome. Everyone in Hell is so gloomy. Like, I get you're being tortured and stuck here for all eternity, but come on, cheer up, it could be worse; you could be stuck in Heaven with a bunch of Mormons.

Everytime I see Damien, he's always making fun of my most recent death, which is fair, but he's still a douche.

So, ending up in Hell after my little "shortcut" wasn't exactly too exciting.

"Kenneth. Did you really kill yourself instead of walking home?" Damien says. He's sitting on his weird Hell throne thing surrounded by little black creatures and Pip.

"Uh, yeah. I was lost, I don't kn-"

"You're not taking your power seriously. Immortality is not something to be taken lightly. You need to stop fooling around."  
"C'mon, man. Lighten up. It was funny. Plus, it doesn't even matter. None of this ever matters."

"It _does_ matter. You cannot keep abusing your power like this."

"Don't be such a buzzkill, Fartboy."  
"Kenneth, I have told you countless times to stop calling me that."  
"It's Ken-"

"Seriously _Kenny_, I'm not messing around here. You're getting reckless. You're not living up to the responsibility of.. This."

"Suck a dick, Damien. It's my life, I can do what I want."

Flames form in his eyes and his nose scrunches. He's pissed, but what's he going to do? Kill me again?

"Do not speak to me like that, or I'll have you s-"

"Damien, dear, calm down, it's alright," Pip pipes up.

Damien snaps out of his fiery rage and turns to Pip.

"Pip, I love you, you mean everything to me, but shut the fuck up."

"Right-o," Pip says, looking amused. They seem to have a nice relationship.

Pip turns to me. He looks different, grown up. But he's still wearing that god-awful hat and bowtie. I think he's wearing the same outfit he would wear when I knew him. I'm not sure if Hell has a lot of clothing options. Unlike Damien, though, Pip's long hair is clean-cut and neat. His hair is about two shades lighter blonde than mine, and unlike mine, his eyes are dark brown. God, he even _looks_ British.

Damien has a stupid fucking mullet, same messy black hair he's always had. His eyes are straight up black, and when I piss him off flames light up in them, which is funny to me. Pip always calms him down before he can do anything too bad to me. Damien's voice is deep, and, not going to lie, pretty sexy, but I think he would be more fun to talk to if he had the same voice that he had in fourth grade.

"Kenny, old friend, we're all friends here. Let's not be too hostile," Pip says. How the hell is he always smiling?

"Whatever. Dude I don't even want this 'power'. Dying fucking hurts, and everyone thinks I'm a flake. Not even my best friends believe me."  
"Fine," Damien crosses his arms. "No more lives, then."

"You're kidding right?" I ask. He's definitely kidding.. I think.

"Nope. You'll get what you want. No more lives."

"You know the whole world is literally against me, right? Like, not in an edgy way, I'm constantly on the verge of death. The universe is always trying to kill me."

"See you soon, then."

"Damien no yo-"

He smirks. Then I wake up in my bed.

Well, shit.

I know it's common knowledge to, you know, not trust demons, so maybe he was bluffing? I can't afford to find out though. What a dick.


	3. Chapter 3

"So then I was like, 'I'll kick your fucking ass, kid. Don't test me.'" Cartman is on his bullshit as usual.

"Shut the fuck up, Fat Boy," Kyle interjects. "He punched you and you started crying like a little bitch. You deserved it, too. That's what you get for making fun of his dead dad."

Stan laughs and I smile.

Cartman is still fat as ever. He has a nice sense of style, and he has one blue eye and one brown eye, which is pretty cool actually. He only has that because he has one of my eyes, though. Stealing little bitch. His brown hair is usually gel'd, which the boys and I make fun of because it's really gay. Cartman actually cares a lot about his appearance, but, again, he's still pretty fucking fat.

Kyle, on the other hand, doesn't care about his appearance, but he's still pretty good looking. He stopped hiding his hair, so now the whole world can see his glorious, red jewfro. Kyle has a classic jew nose, which Cartman _constantly_ makes fun of. He also has freckles, but they're faint, so he's not a classic ginger. Kyle has dark brown eyes that are constantly crinkled in anger. Kyle is a textbook angry short person. Seriously, the boy's, like, 5'5, the shortest of all of us. Cartman is 5'7, I'm 5'9, and Stan is a striking 6'0.

Speaking of Stan, Stan grew up to be really attractive. He has really good bone structure and piercing blue eyes. No homo. His hair is jet black and effortlessly perfect, which I am extremely jealous over. Stan's one of the quarterbacks of the South Park Bull's, our football team, so he's super popular and has a ton of friends, but still hangs out with us losers most of the time. Stan is strangely single, but that's fine because whenever he _is_ dating someone, he never hangs out with us. Bro's before hoes, Stan. Stan's also really fucking stupid, but he's a lawful dumbass, so it's ok.

"Kyle, I swear I'll kick in your fucking teeth. Stop being such a snitch," Cartman replies.

"Cartman I will not hesitate to beat your ass into the ground."

"Alright, alright," Stan laughs. "It's not even nine in the morning and you two are already threatening violence. Let's cool it down."

Kyle laughs, which causes Stan to laugh, and I follow. Cartman crosses his arms.

We all part to our first period classes and agree to see each other at lunch.

My first period is objectively the best out of all eight of my classes. Not because I like the subject or anything, in fact, I actually hate History. The reason I like this class so much is because Butters is in it. He always brightens up my day. I think he does that to a lot of people though.

I walk into class and immediately hear, "Kenny!"

I turn around to see Butters waving at me. He's literally so fucking cute.

"Buttercup! How you doing today?"

He laughs a little.

"I'm well! 'M a little tired but I like this class so I'm ok." He smiles.

I love his smile. You can see the smile in his eyes. His eyes are beautiful by the way. Everything about him is though. His shaggy blond hair, his bright blue eyes (actually his left eye is lighter blue because of that time I accidentally threw a ninja star in his eye, which I feel horrible for, so his eye is scarred), the way his nose scrunches when he laughs, how the corners of his eyes crease when he smiles. I could probably stare at him all day and it wouldn't ever get old.

"Eh.. this class is pretty boring.. To me, at least. Mrs. Jarvis is a total bitch."

"Well that's 'cause you're rude to her, Ken." He laughs again.

I smirk. I probably look like an idiot.

"Not my fault I have a bullshit detector. That woman is _not_ from Wales. She doesn't even have an accent."

The bell rings and Butters takes his seat, which is unfortunately across the room from me.

Class drags on and I occasionally make eye contact with Butters subsuquently make a stupid face, and he giggles, which makes my heart melt.

"McCormick! What's so funny over there that's more important than what I was saying?" Mrs. Jarvis snaps at me. Whoops, I didn't know she was talking.

I _want_ to say, "Sorry, Butters is just so cute my brain can't comprehend anything else when he's around," but that would definitely embarrass him, or get him in trouble, so I refrain.

"Sorry." I have been defeated.

She turns back to the projector and starts talking about The Civil War or something.

I spend the rest of the class trying to get my pencil to stand up straight on its eraser and struggle to not suffocate in the guy next to me's Axe Body Spray.

Fast-forward to lunch, back with the boys.

My lunch table consists of Cartman, Stan, Kyle, Butters, Tweek, Craig, and Jimmy, Token, Scott, and Clyde.

Cartman's bitching again.

"I can't believe that bitch gave me a fifty on that algebra test. I'm gonna beat her a-"

"Oh my _god_ shut the fuck up, you are not going to kick Ms. Fuller's ass. Go study for once, god damn," Kyle rebuts.

"Can you guys shut up? I'm trying to appreciate Taco Tuesday," Clyde says.

"I don't know how you can eat that.. It's not even real meat," Craig replies. Clyde scowls at him and Craig flips him off.

"Oh! sh-shut up ever-eryone. Okay, s-so I went-t on that d-date with th-that senior g-girl," Jimmy starts.

"My man!" Clyde replies.

"You two are so gross," Tweek adds.

"Sh-shut up h-homo. Anyw-ways.."

I stop listening and check my phone. I really don't care about Jimmy's body count.

"Right, Kenny?" Craig asks.

"Sorry I was totally not listening because I literally could not care less. What was the question?"

"The only hot chicks here are seniors, right?" Clyde pipes up.

"Oh, uh…" I look at Butters. He doesn't seem to care, which hurts a little. "I-"

"Kenny's into dudes, guys. He's a fag," Eric butts in.

"Wait, is he?" Clyde asks.

"Dude, he's literally had boyfriends before." Craig says, confused.

"Yeah, but, like, I thought they were just friends."

"Clyde, you're literally the stupidest fucking person on the whole planet," Token ends his judging silence.

Clyde frowns, and everyone laughs. I look to Butters for some sort of reaction, but he just laughs along with the rest of the guys. I'm not really sure what I was hoping for, but I'm disappointed.

"You got a problem with gay people, Cartman?" Craig asks. A question we all know the answer to, but Craig likes to start shit. It's entertaining.

"A problem with fags?" Cartman laughs. The whole table groans. "Yes, I do, it's gross."

A collective round of Shut-the-fuck-up-Cartman's are shared around the table.

"Oh, c'mon, Eric," Butters soft voice cuts through the laughter and talking. "There's nothin' wrong with bein' gay. We're all jus' people."

What does he mean by "we"? Does that mean he's gay? Or did he mean "we" as in people?

"Okay, Butters. You can stop being a fag now," Cartman condescends.

Butters frowns and Cartman laughs.

The table is filled with various jokes and arguments. Butters looks uncomfortable.

"u wanna go to the courtyard to get away from these dumbasses?" I text Butters.

He checks his phone, looks up to me, and smiles. God, he's literally the cutest person on Earth.

I stand up and he follows me away from the table.

"Where are you two homos going?" Cartman asks.

"Suck a fat one, Lardass." I flip him off and walk away, gesturing Butters to follow.

Butters and I make our way through the hallways and assorted students sitting on the floor.

We arrive at the courtyard in the middle of the school. It's nice to have a little bit of nature contrasting from the ugly ass school building. I take a seat on the thermoplastic table and Butters sits on the bench. Sitting on surfaces that aren't made to be sat on is liberating.

"Cartman's such a dumbass," I sigh. "I swear all of us all share two braincells and we're the only ones who get them." I laugh, but Butters stays silent. I look down to him and he looks sad.

"Buttercup, you doin' okay?"

He looks up at me and smiles, but his eyes are sad.

"..Do you need a hug?" I'm not very good at consoling people.

"..Maybe," he squeaks.

I slide down onto the bench and wrap my arms around him. He wraps his arms under mine. I will protect this boy with everything I have.

He pulls away and makes eye contact with me. My heart just skipped, like, 15 beats.

"You okay now?"

"Yeah I'm alright. Thanks, Ken."


	4. Chapter 4

Every year, the boys and I go up to Stark's Pond for our annual camping trip. We've been doing this since 7th grade, ever since Cartman's mom decided she wanted him to "go enjoy the outdoors", and he didn't want to go alone, so he invited me, and I didn't want it to only be me and Cartman, so I invited Stan, who invited Kyle.

The first year we went was pretty fun. Stan and I got shit faced, Kyle ended up doing all of our homework, _for fun_, and Cartman probably killed some small animals or something. I was too drunk to remember.

This time is going to be different, though. This time, we're bringing Butters.

A couple weeks ago, when we were talking about this trip and what we needed to do to prepare for it, Stan made the suggestion that we bring Butters along. I tried to act aloof about it, but on the inside I was dying. In a good way.

Stan said we hadn't been very nice to Butters lately, even though we all knew he meant _Cartman_ hadn't been nice to him, and so we should invite him along to make up for it. Kyle agreed without hesitation, because we all surprisingly like Butters, but Cartman put up a bit of a fight.

"It's bad enough that you two Jews are coming with, and now we're bringing _that _pansy with us?" Cartman whined. Stan's not even Jewish.

"So you just want it to be me and you? No thanks," I said.

We bickered a bit, but majority rules, and majority decided to bring Butters with us. Welcome to America, Fatass.

I decide that _I'm_ going to be the one to invite Butters, because I know he'll be excited, and I just love seeing his eyes light up.

"Are you sure it's okay with the guys? That I come with?" He asks.

"Yes, of course! Stan was the one who suggested it, after all," I reply.

"Oh, geez.. Well I'd love to go! But my parents won't let me go."  
"Dude, just tell them you're having a sleepover with us. They don't have to know where the sleepover is."  
"Oh, gee, Ken, my parents'll be really mad if they find out, though. My dad would.. Well, I guess it wouldn't be that bad.. Okay, I'll come with!"

"Great! We leave after school on Friday. I'll text u what you need to bring!"

We part ways and I head off to class. I can't wait until Friday.

"Guys don't scuff my car my dad will kill me if he even sees a speck on it," Stan pleads.

"Stop being a pussy, Stan," Cartman says.

"Cartman, shut up," Kyle intervenes. "Hey, was Butters supposed to be here, like, 5 minutes ago. We gotta get a move on."

"Yeah, I'll text him," Stan says.

He takes out his phone, and right one cue, we hear, "Fellas! Sorry I'm late, my dad wouldn't let me leave without doing a bunch of chores." Butters just being around has instantly brightened my day.

"No worries, man! Glad you could make it," Stan smiles.

"Butters, hand me your bag," Kyle says.

Kyle, Butters, and Stan all work on packing up the car. Cartman looks at Butters, then at me, and gives me a mischievous look.

"Cartman, I don't know what you're up to but so help me G-"  
"Don't get your panties in a twist, Kenny. I'm not doing anything."  
I scowl at him.

"Hey! Cartman! McCormick! Get your asses in the car or we're leaving without you!" Kyle yells.

We all get into the car. Stan's driving, Cartman's in the passenger seat (because he's too fat to fit into the back), so Kyle, Butters, and I have to stuff ourselves into the back of Stan's shitty ass mini van. It was a gift from Randy after he got a new car.

"Alright, someone's gotta sit in the middle," Kyle says.

"I can do it, since I'm the one who's forcing one a' us to sit there," Butters proposes.  
"Don't worry, man. I can do it," I say.

Kyle shrugs and we all get in the car.

The car ride to Stark's Pond is only about twenty minutes long, and Kyle tells us a story about some kid who made fun of him for having a kosher lunch, and Cartman took the side of the other kid.

Once we get there, Stan and Kyle set up the tents and Cartman bitches about the cold.

"Buttercup! Come help me break out the hot dogs," I say. I want to save him from Cartman's ranting.

He makes his way over and we open up the cooler.

"Stan, did you seriously not bring any beer?" I shout to him. How the hell am I supposed to survive this trip sober?

"Wait, I thought you were bringing it?" He calls back.

I groan.

"Are we seriously alcohol-less while _camping?_"

"Damn," Stan says.

"Maybe it's a good thing. You two always wake up super hung-over," Kyle adds.

"Shut up, Kyle," We say simultaneously.

I can't see him but I assume he rolls his eyes.

"Do you guys usually drink on these trips?" Butters asks.

"Aw, you innocent soul. That's _all_ we do on these trips," I reply.

"Oh, geez."

"It's probably gonna be fine. Not sure how I'll survive Cartman's jabbering, but.. You're here, so it's gonna be fine."

He smiles at me. Who let him be this cute. I think it's illegal.

"Ok! Tent's up. Let's break out the wieners, bitch," Stan says.

"I- Stan, don't call them wieners," Kyle says.

"Pfft, boring."

"Cartman!" I yell. "Make yourself useful and light the fire."

He grumbles, takes out his lighter, and soon we have a blazing fire.

"I can't believe we had to get kosher hotdogs. I don't wanna become Jewish," Cartman says.

"You'll live. Kyle can't eat normal hotdogs and I didn't wanna blow twenty bucks on hot-dogs. You don't have to eat them if you don't want," Stan says.

'Ughhh, fine," Cartman replies.

"C'mon, Eric. They're not that different. Just pretend you're eatin' normal hotdogs," Butters suggests.

"Shut up, Butters."

Butters looks hurt for a second, but the look fades away almost instantly.

"Don't be such a dick, Cartman," I say.

"Oh, sorry, did I hurt your boyfriend's feelings?"

I roll my eyes and the group goes quiet. We roast our hotdogs in silence for a couple minutes, with the sound of the fire popping every once in a while. I take a moment to take in our surroundings. The sky is a dull shade of purple and the air is cool. I love nature. I should go outside more often. Maybe on hikes. I wonder if Butters would want to tag along.

"Jesus Christ, these are horrible," Cartman complains.

"Dude, you're a literal trash can. You just don't like these because you're anti-semetic," Kyle argues.

They bicker for a little, and Stan decides to break it up.

"Can we just go one day. _One day_. Without fighting?"

"Sorry," Kyle says. I don't think he is. But I don't think he should be anyways.

"Whatever," Cartman says. "I'm gonna go hang out in the tent." He gets up and leaves.

We have 2 tents. One for Cartman, Kyle, and Butters, and one for Stan and me.

Butters, Stan, Kyle, and I talk for a little bit. We finish our food.

"What the hell do we do now? I wanna be drunk," Stan frowns.

"I'm usually opposed to that, but I agree. Being sober right now is boring," Kyle agrees.

"We could do something gay, like, tell stories or some shit," I suggest.

"Oh! How about we play Truth or Dare," Stan says.

"Stan, we're seventeen. Aren't we too old to do that?" Kyle asks.

"You gotta better idea?"  
Kyle thinks for a moment, then shrugs.

"Truth or Dare it is!" Stan declares.

"Okay. I'll go first," Kyle says.

The first couple questions are boring, like, "If you had to fuck anyone in a certain class, who would it be?" or "I dare you to scare Cartman."

"Butters! Truth or dare?" Stan asks.

"Oh, geez. Um.. truth."  
"Alright.. Hm.. If you had to marry one person in our grade, who would it be?"

Now I'm listening.

"Marry? Oh, gosh. Stan, we're seventeen," Butters laughs. "Hm.. let me think."

I know the answer to this will hurt me, but then again, I'm really curious.

"Okay. I can't think of a good answer, but I choose.. Annie Knitts. We sat next to each other in geometry last year for like, 3 months, and we're still friends."  
"Ooh, the blonde likes blondes," Kyle says. We all laugh, but I am very hurt. At least he likes blondes, though.

"Ken! Truth or dare?" Butters inquires. I'm caught off-guard.

"Oh, uh.. Truth?"

"Boring!" Stan yells. I flip him off.

"Okay. Who do you think the cutest kid in school is?"

"Butters, you're so innocent, it's adorable," Stan laughs. Butters blushes a little. I'm jealous.

So, I could answer honestly, and say it's Butters by a _long_ shot, or I could lie and save my ass. I'm going to choose the second option.

"Um, probably.. Henrietta. I got a thing for goths." The funny thing is that that's actually true, but Butters is as far away from goth as possible.

Everyone laughs, and I look to Butters' face for some sort of reaction, but it's too dark to see.

"Alright," Stan says. "I'm gonna go to sleep. 'Night, losers."

"Pussy! It's only midnight," I say. He laughs and flips me off.

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna head to bed, too. I wanna get up early," Kyle says.

"Ughhhhh, you too?" I ask. Kyle shrugs.

"Just you and me, Buttercup. You gonna stay up?" I look at Butters and he looks really tired.

"Aw." Fuck, that slipped out. "You should get some rest."

"Yeah, I guess. 'Night, Ken."

"'Night Butters," I respond. I stare at the fire for a little, and eventually decide to turn in for the night.

I wake up and check my phone. Five in the morning. Damn.

For some reason, I'm compelled to get out of my tent, so I do. To my surprise, I find Butters sitting on the grass, by the burnt out fire.

"Buttercup? What're you doing?" I ask, groggily. He jumps.

"Oh, geez! Ken you scared me. I.. couldn't sleep, so 'm stargazing."  
"Mind if I join you?" I ask.

"Not at all!" He says. I take a seat next to him and lie down on the grass.

He laughs. "I don't actually know any constellations, but I still like looking at the stars."

"Neither do I." We sit in silence for a couple seconds.

"Butters, look! A shooting star!"

He laughs. "Ken, that's an airplane."  
"I know, I just wanted to make you laugh.. You seem sad."  
"I'm okay! Jus' a lil' tired."

"I mean in general. You've seemed sad the past few weeks."

He's quiet for a little.

"I'm alright. My parents have been.. Stricter than usual lately. But I deserve it all, I can be a trouble sometimes."

"Butters, you're literally the best behaved person I've ever met, you don't deserve it."  
"Well.." He goes quiet again. "How's _your _family doing, Ken?"

"It's been kind of hard ever since Kevin left. I'm glad that he has a job and can support himself but.. Karen misses him. I have to pick up twice the amount of work now to help keep us afloat. I don't blame him for leaving though.. I just wish he would've decided to help us out a little more before doing so."  
"Aw.. I'm real sorry. It's great what you're doing, though. You're a good brother, Ken. You're a good person. What about your parents, though?"

My heart just started running a hundred miles an hour.

"Thanks, Buttercup," I smile. "And about my parents.. can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course, Kenny."

"Alright. You can't tell anyone, though. You're gonna be the only one who knows."  
He makes a zipping-his-lips action. I smile. He's cute.

"Okay.. oh boy. My dad.. He, uh, he's kind of.. In jail?"

"Holy heck. What did he.. Uh, what did he do?" I sigh. "Oh, gosh, I'm sorry! You don't have to tell me, Ken. I'm sorry for as-"

"Hey, it's okay. Don't worry, Buttercup. He got arrested for, you know.." I make a stirring gesture. He looks at me quizzically.

"Do you- okay, um.." He looks at me, even more confused.

"Meth, Butters. My dad was cooking meth."  
"Oh!.. Oh. Oh, gosh."

"Yeah.. Um, he was sentenced to, uh, seven years." I sit up. Butters follows.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry Kenny."

"It's okay! He.. deserved it, I guess. My mom has kind of.. Shut down. My parents hate each other, but she's taking this pretty bad. I guess she does love him at least a bit. He was only sentence a couple weeks ago. I'm not really sure how no one has noticed. It's such a small town, everyone knows everything.. We're- Karen and I are gonna try to visit him once or twice a month, uh.." Oh shit, I'm tearing up.

He pulls me into a hug. I hesitate for a second, but return the hug.

Butters pulls away. "Ken, I don't really- I can't do much to help, but if you or Karen ever need anything, you can always come to me."

"Thanks, Butters." He's really something else.

"Hey!" Calls a voice from one of the tents. "Can you two fags shut the fuck up? I'm trying to sleep!" Cartman's always ruining the moment. I swear he has a sixth sense and uses his powers to fuck me over.

"Have you slept at all, Butters?" I ask.

"A little. I'm just not tired I guess."

"You wanna go find somewhere to watch the sunrise?" His eyes light up a little, but dim just as quickly.

"That would be great, Ken." I stand up and offer him my hand. He grabs it and stands up, but lets it go as soon as he's up, which is a little disappointing.

We walk towards the forest and I step over a bush.

"Ken, you're going off the trail," Butters says, worried.

"Fuck the trail. Let's go on an adventure!" He looks nervous for a second, but he laughs and follows.

We make our way through some trees and eventually come across a clearing. I motion to it and Butters sits down. I take a seat next to him and start talking.

"Are you sure you've been okay lately? You always look.. Sad, or something."  
"Oh, gosh, I'm fine. I swear, K-"

I take his hands and make eye contact with him.

"Butters, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I want you to know I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you. I-.. I care about you, and you can tell me anything."

He tears up.

"Oh, oh god. I'm sorry, Butters, I didn't mean to make you cry. I was just trying t-" He pulls me into a hug.

"Thank you, Ken." He pulls away, and I can see he's crying.

"Aw, But-"

"I'm sorry. My parents have been a lot stricter lately, and I feel like the boys don't like me too much. I know they don't really like me at all, but lately, it's just been.. I don't know. I'm sorry. Everything Eric's been saying to me is getting to me, I guess. I know I'm just being a pansy, but-"

"Butters. You're not being a 'pansy'. You have feelings, and that's normal. Also, the boys definitely like you, they're just dumbasses and bad at showing it. Boys are dicks to each other, it's not ideal but it's how it works. And don't let Cartman get to you. He's a dick, and everything he says is rooted from some sort of delusion or his own issues or something."

He stays quiet.

"Also, if you need, I can kick your parents' asses."

He laughs. He's still crying. He puts his head on my shoulder and we watch the sky.


	5. Chapter 5

Overall, the camping trip was pretty insignificant. I really enjoyed bringing Butters along, and we shared a nice moment, but the absence of drugs and alcohol made it pretty lack-luster.

I come home to my mom sleeping on the couch with the news on. Something about a robbery in the town next over.

I go to my room, set down all my camping stuff, which was really just a backpack full of a second pair of clothes and an empty flask, and flop myself on my bed.

I hear footsteps coming towards my room. I lift my head up.

"Kenny! You're home. How was your trip?" I hear from my doorway.

"Hey, Karen," I say. "It was fine. It was boring, though. Cartman and Kyle fought a lot." I yawn. I put my head back down.

She laughs. "What else is new?" I shrug. She comes into my room and sits on my bed.

Karen's nearly thirteen, which still baffles me. It feels like just yesterday when I was defending her from getting bullied as Mysterion. Maybe that's because my sense of time is warped from how much of my life I spend unconscious or in some sort of afterlife.

Speaking of Mysterion, playing superheroes as kids was always one of my favorites. People really thought I was a hero. I enjoyed that. But then, of course, Cartman came in and ruined it. I'm not sure why we're even still friends. I enjoyed playing Game of Thrones a little bit more, though. I really liked being a princess. And Sailor Moon. I still don't really know what that was about. No shame in wanting to play as a chick.

Karen's still the same sweet, quiet child that she was in the first grade. I've promised to her that I'm always going to be there for her, and I'm going to do everything in my power to keep that. Karen is the most important person in my life. Of course, Butters is second, and the boys are third, but Karen comes before everything to me. Also, I'm not sure if I mean that much to them.

"So.. how was Butters?" She asks, knowingly.

I side eye her. "He was.. Fine."  
She laughs and playfully punches my arm. She lays down next to me.

"So, when's the wedding?"

I laugh. "I was thinkin' probably next Thursday. I have work on Wednesday and Friday, so.."  
"Darn, I'm busy on Thursday. I'll mail you a gift." We both laugh.

"No, but seriously, when are you gonna ask him out?" She asks.

I sigh. "I don't even think he's gay. It would be painfully awkward for both of us."

She lets out an over-dramatic sigh. "You'll never know unless you ask," she says, singing the end part.

I shush her and laugh. It's a sad laugh.

"I think maybe.. I should just, mo-"  
"No. Nope. No. Absolutely not," she cuts me off.

"Bu-"

"No. You are too in love with that boy to give up on him without even trying."  
I sigh again. "But, we're still really good friends. What if, when- if I try to tell him, he wants to be done with me forever?"

"Kenny, we both know that's not gonna happen."

"He just.. Means a lo-"

"Cutting you off again. No getting sappy. Man up and tell the boy you love him."

I laugh. "I think I'll pass." She rolls her eyes.

"Why are you even here? I thought you usually hung out with Tricia on weekends?"

"Are you serious?" She asks, confused.

"..Yes..?"  
"We're visiting Dad today..?"

Oh fuck. "Ohh.. ugh.."

"Do.. you not want to?" She asks.

"No! N-no, I do. I just.. I don't know. It's always weird."

"It's not that bad. It's gonna be a lot less awkward now since.. Kevin isn't coming along."

The story of my dad getting arrested was a funny one. A bit traumatic and embarrassing, but funny. It all happened about a month ago, after Kevin made a joke to his friend at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Kevin had still been living at home even though he's twenty-one, because there is no way in Hell we could afford to send him to college. He picked up a job at Skeeter's bar, so he was adding to the family's income, which was nice, but it was one fateful night when Kevin was at the bar during his break, and made a joke to some of his friends about our dad making meth. Someone must have overheard him, though, because lo and behold, the very next day we had cops show up to our house, searching for a meth lab. And guess what was in our backyard, hidden by a dirty, old canopy?

After my dad was placed into custody, the whole family had a little conversation, and Kevin admitted the joke he had told. Mom and Dad were a little mad, but we all knew it was going to happen one day. Then, Dad was sentenced to seven years for possession, manufacturing, and distribution.

It's been a fun experience all around.

During the ride there, Karen's talking about how some kid in her history class copied off her test and how the teacher got both of them in trouble, and while I care very much about Karen, I'm kind of dying inside. I don't want to see my dad. He's never been a good father. He's never been there for us. And now, all because he got caught doing illegal shit I'm supposed to act like that never happened?

My parents are objectively not good parents. They would always spend money on drugs before food for Kevin, Karen, and me, and would constantly hit and scream at each other. My parents are the textbook definition of "White Trash."

I guess that means I am too, though.

"Kenny, are you even listening?" Karen asks.

"Uh.. yes..? No, I'm not."

"Well at least pay attention to the road. You're gonna get us killed."

"Alas," I sigh. "My master plans have been foiled." She laughs.

I'm a different person around Karen than I am to everyone else. I'm not sure which one is the real me.

We arrive at the county jail, and I park.

"Alright.. Let's do this," I sigh.

We get to the front desk. There's an old white man behind there. He looks angry.

"Uh.. Hi, we're here to visit my- our dad, we c-"

"Names?"

"Uh.. McCormick. Kenny and Karen McCormick." He hands us some information sheets to fill out.

We have to wait for a little while, but eventually a man leads to a small room. My dad is sitting at the table.

The room is bright. Too bright for this situation.

Even though we were granted contact visitation, I still stay away from him. Not because I'm scared or anything. I'm just angry. I think.

Karen and I each take a seat at the opposite side of my dad and a guard waits near the door.

There's an awkward silence.

"Hi, Dad," Karen speaks up.

"Hey, Karen, how've you been?"

"I've been okay."

More silence.

"How's school going?" Dad asks.

Karen sighs. "The same. I hate it there." They talk about Karen's school life for a little. I zone out and anxiously bite my nails.

"I'm sure th-" my dad starts.

"Mom misses you," I interrupt. The room goes quiet. "She won't do anything.. Productive."

"I-" My dad musters out.

"I don't know why. You and Kevin are both gone. I have to pick up the work for all three of you." I don't know what I'm hoping to accomplish with this. I need him to know what this is doing to us. What it's doing to me.

"Kenny, I'm sorry. I-"

"You're not, though. And that's fine. I just.. Want you to know.. What's been happening." Karen places her hand on my shoulder and I jump in surprise.

"Listen, Kenny," my dad says. "I am sorry. You're a good kid. You're a good person.. For picking up all that work."  
"It's not like I have a choice. I can't let us starve. Dad. You've been doing this for years, and it's finally caught up to you. And now I'm the one who has to deal with it."

The room goes quiet again. I don't even care if I made this awkward. I needed someone to talk to, and the only option I could see was my criminal father. I'm not sure how I got to the point in my life.


End file.
